


There's nothing left to hide

by Bioluminex



Series: Is there a heaven for androids? [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Identity Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 13:40:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15341046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bioluminex/pseuds/Bioluminex
Summary: "Hank has never had a tangible reason to fear Connor, at least once he was ninety percent sure the kid was becoming deviant. He can close his eyes at night knowing Connor is in the house, and knows he isn’t going to murder him in his sleep. He trusts Connor to have his back, whether it be on a case or anywhere else for that matter.And he still trusts him, completely, but it’s the lack of trust from the other side that has him concerned."Directly follows "The last thing these eyes see"





	There's nothing left to hide

**Author's Note:**

> I deeply appreciate the heartwarming feedback on the last two parts of this little series, and I want to say thank you SO MUCH for the support. You're all so amazing. DBH has created a community unlike any other, and I'm very proud to be a part of this fandom.

Parents never lose the instinct to protect their children. It doesn’t matter how old they are, or what they’ve done, its part of them the moment they lay eyes on them and know they are forever theirs.

When something is off, parents know. They’ve witnessed every second of their child’s life – the growing, the changing, the independence rising forth, the arguments, and the reliance when shit hits the fan.

Parents _always_ know when their kid isn’t okay, and Hank never lost those instincts.

If anything, Connor brought them back the moment he determinedly wormed his way into Hank's life.

It has been a month since Amanda’s attempt to deactivate Connor, and although Kamski assured them both he removed her from Connor's programming, Hank still keeps one eye on the android, and an ear open at night.

The nightmares plaguing the android stopped abruptly, a little unnerving for the lieutenant who was still accustomed to waking up in the early hours to a panicking, screaming robot. Connor spends his time while Hank sleeps (or tries to) in the kitchen or on the couch, off in his own little world rifling through his software, ensuring he’s running at full capacity.

Sometimes, and more recently, Hank has noticed behaviour unlike anything he's seen in the kid. He's caught Connor rushing out of the bathroom with a guilty azure flush rising in his cheeks, or yanking his hands out of sight the moment Hank comes around the corner or in the door from work.

If Connor were a human teenager, Hank would think nothing of it. Hormones are hormones, and he isn’t a prude. He was a kid once, changing into a man with new urges. It's _normal._

But it's not as simple as that, cause Connor doesn’t… function like that.

( _Not that Hank ever asked, god forbid._ )

And then it got even stranger when Hank, utilizing every bit of stealth an aging police officer could manage, got close enough one evening after “going to bed" to find Connor on the couch with the skin deactivated from his hand. The pristine white shone in the dark house, but it was the android's fixation upon it that left Hank a little uneasy.

Hank has never had a tangible reason to fear Connor, at least once he was ninety percent sure the kid was becoming deviant. He can close his eyes at night knowing Connor is in the house, and knows he isn’t going to murder him in his sleep. He trusts Connor to have his back, whether it be on a case or anywhere else for that matter.

And he still trusts him, _completely_ , but it’s the lack of trust from the other side that has him concerned.

Seeing Connor like this – hiding in plain sight – strikes Hank as a little strange, cause Connor never used to do this. It's almost as though Connor's never _seen_ it before, but both of them _have_ , so why hide?

One morning, Hank finds the courage to ask.

“Connor?” he finds the android at the kitchen table, flicking his coin from hand to hand absently. The RK800 glances up, a fond smile playing at his lips.

“Hi, Hank,” he murmurs, watching the lieutenant pull out a chair and sit.

Hank doesn’t really know where to begin, so he hesitates. Connor stops playing with his coin and tilts his head inquisitively. “Is everything right?”

“I know I asked before so don’t get in a huff about it but…” Hank cautiously meets his eye. All he sees is open concern reflected back at him – _fuck, now he’s got Connor worried_. “Is there something on your mind, kiddo?” he forces out before he changes his mind.

Connor greets his question with slightly raised eyebrows. Then, quicker than a bullet, Hank sees the guard fly up as the android carefully composes himself.

“I assure you I’m at peak performance, Hank,” he answers smoothly, holding the lieutenant's gaze. “My systems are-"

The usual gibberish. It sets Hank on edge as the android deliberately tries to deflect. “Connor, I didn't mean your system. I meant _you_.”

A flicker of red, too quick for Hank to be sure before the LED is pale azure once again. He’s not fooled. Connor is piss-poor at hiding his emotions – especially after Hank was presented a wide array of them in such a short span of time.

“I don’t understand what you are asking of me, Hank.” If Connor is aiming for puzzlement he’s so fucking far off Fowler can probably see it from the precinct. He looks confused and, worse still, like he’s hiding something.

_Cause he is._

“Connor, you know you can talk to me right?” Hank can’t help but feel he's pleading. “You can trust me with anything, I’m not gonna turn around and betray you.”

Connor is utterly still, gaze unmoving. He looks like he’s being interrogated.

Hank doesn’t know what to even say. He’s worried sick for the kid; he’s got it all bottled up inside, and it’s not just eating him up, it's starting to put pressure on their relationship. Hank thinks Connor doesn’t trust him, and it _hurts._

Connor is refusing to speak, and reluctant to go any further, Hank sighs, rising from the table. “Fine. When you’re ready to talk, we’ll talk then.”

“Hank, there’s _nothing_ to talk about,” he says coolly, pulling his lying card with perfect effortlessness, trying to make Hank believe wrong. It rubs Hank's nerves the _wrong_ way.

“Do you really believe you can lie to me, of all people?” he asks bitterly. “Fuck, I thought we were past this, Connor. It's like talking to a damn machine again.”

The LED spins solid red in response.

_He finally struck a nerve._

“I _am_ a machine, Lieutenant,” Connor says coldly, the words coming through clenched teeth, a quiet anger chilling his tone. “I’m no more than machine parts and wires on the inside. I’d expect _you_ of all people to know that.”

Connor falls quiet, and his eyes drop a little. He looks ashamed and embarrassed.

“I let you in closer than anyone else. I have _nothing_ left to hide from y-you,” his voice breaks a little. “A _machine_. That's all I am. I’m not… human. Even if I try to convince myself. I’ll _never_ be.”

Hank grips the back of the chair, silent. Connor lays his palms flat on the table and, slowly, the fingertips become white, inching along until both hands are bare. Connor is staring at them in… disgust? Hatred? Fear?

“I… I’m finding it hard to come to terms with what it means to be… me.”

Hank understands.

It’s not a matter of trust. It’s a matter of identity. He’s afraid he won’t be accepted or wanted, and so he's distanced himself.

 _A little like coming out_ , Hank thinks, realizing this is so much closer to home than he thought. He should have _known_.

He saw Connor without his skin, his circuitry and metal organs exposed, balanced on the edge of life and death with no one but Hank to see him for who he really was: Brave as hell to the end, willing to pay any cost, including himself.

“Connor, if you think I’m gonna throw you out because you don’t bleed the same colour as me, you need to realize you’re wrong,” Hank says gently. “With what happened, with all we’ve been through, I never thought you’d be… afraid of what I thought of you.”

Connor's gaze is focused, warm with so much feeling Hank wouldn’t have been surprised if the kid really was a flesh and blood human being. “Hank…” he says softly.

Hank realizes this is a conversation they needed to have. He'd never spoken about that night, and neither had Connor. He suddenly _wants_ to, because there's so much in his head, so many words vying to be spoken.

But he doesn’t know where to start.

“Jesus, if this is all you were upset about, why didn't you just tell me?” Hank comes to Connor's side, motioning for the android to stand. He pulls Connor into a hug before he’s even on his feet, crushing him close.

A hitching sob startles both of them. Hank rubs the back of Connor's neck soothingly, shushing him. The android is shaking in his embrace, leaving blue-tinted tear stains on Hank's shirt, but what does he care?

“You fucking talk to me when something's wrong, you hear?” Hank orders. “I don’t care what for, or why, but you gotta talk to me, Connor.”

“I… I will, Hank.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

 


End file.
